


standard procedure

by tastygrahams



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU in which omegas have vaginas, Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Will Graham, Choking, Doctor/Patient, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Hannibal has a dick, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Omega Will Graham, Pet Names, Scent Kink, Top Hannibal Lecter, Vaginal Fingering, and he's kinda touch starved, but that shit can't stop Hannibal :), i.e. Will has a vagina, in which will is not aware of his encephalitis, lol if the beginning’s kinda boring skip straight to the porn it’s worth it I promise, preheat, pretty much pwp, suppressants, which turns into, wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastygrahams/pseuds/tastygrahams
Summary: Lecter crosses to stand behind him. He presses carefully at the scent glands on the sides of Will’s neck, bare fingers sending a humming shock of pleasure straight to his cock. Will clenches his jaw, a small sound escaping him. He’s tense again, strung like a livewire, and he can feel more slick dampening his boxers. He tries not to squirm in his seat.“Anything wrong, Will?”The doctor’s nose is inches away from Will’s curls. He must be able to smell his arousal.“No,” he manages to choke out.----------Will’s heats are thrown into disarray bc of his (undiagnosed) encephalitis and he has to go to Hannibal for a checkup.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 31
Kudos: 339
Collections: a/b/o Hannigram





	standard procedure

Will wakes to the sheets chafing at his skin and an insistent heat behind his eyeballs. 

_Shit_. _Not today._

He shifts his legs experimentally and grimaces at the slick between his thighs. Pre-heat, right on the day of his appointment with a new doctor. Alongside the constant headaches and lost time, whatever is fucking with him — and however much he’d like it to be, he’s starting to think that it isn’t just stress — is also messing with his heat cycles. The last few have been irregular, unexpected, and increasingly hard to tolerate.

A few hours at a clinic should still be safe, so he figures it'd be better to get it over with on his rare day off. He passes a rough hand over his face and groans, allowing a brief moment of chagrin before he heaves himself out of bed. The cold air stings at his bed-warmed skin the moment he shoves off his covers and he shudders as slick pools in his underwear.

Fuck, this is not gonna be fun.

————-

It doesn’t take long until he’s shuffled around the white halls of a clinic by a neat-looking nurse. She’s pragmatic and warm as she takes his weight and asks him to relay his symptoms, but Will just wants to duck back into his car and hide. Despite the suppressants he took that morning, his heightened senses are needled by stimuli — he can smell her perfume, the faint chemical undercurrent turned acrid in his nostrils. He avoids looking up into the fluorescent lights and has to unclench his teeth every ten minutes as the hum of machinery grates at his brain.

He’s told that the suppressants will interfere with the checkup as she takes his blood in little clear vials, and the nurse leaves him alone in a scent-blocked room to wait them out, which means another hour until he can actually see his physician. Will sits, somewhat calmed by the space — it’s like someone carved a little nook of silence into the building, complete with muted lights tucked into a seam in the ceiling. But he’s still dreading the doctor’s roaming gaze. He’s never been good with being poked and prodded and inspected without compassion — he can endure it, sure, but in this state, he’s more likely to jolt out of his skin at the slightest touch.

He tries not to think of the gyno he’ll have to receive while in pre-heat.

Half an hour passes. Will shifts uncomfortably as slick oozes out of him, dampening his boxers. He brings his fingers up to his neck and can feel a low heat where his scent glands are. Warmth floods his crotch at the stimulation, and his irritation rises. He hates feeling so _vulnerable_.

He can smell himself at the forty-five-minute mark, sweet and rich and making his teeth clench. Will’s mind wanders, imagining broad shoulders and big hands roaming his hot skin. He’s suddenly not opposed to being inspected.

His heat is probably further along than he’d thought.

Fuck _—_ nope. He does _not_ want this, actually. He needs to be home now, nesting, with his bad dragon in reach — not out in the open where he can break down into a begging, whimpering mess and let any random alpha rail him over the waiting room table. And apparently his traitorous heat-brain finds even _that_ hot, because he feels slick slip out of him and onto the thin cotton of his boxers. The sensation makes him twitch in his seat and he stills immediately because he just _whimpered_ because the pressure felt _good_ and holy fucking shit he _really_ does not need that right now — but try as he might, he’s in a white room with nothing to distract him, and he can’t keep his mind from straying.

It’s torture.

Just as he’s about to bolt for the door and get the fuck out of there, a polite knock sounds. There’s a moment of silence in which Will tenses and considers his options, but the door swings open before he can react. The man in the doorway smiles cordially, but his eyes light with something else entirely — and Will can’t get a whiff of scent off of him. He shivers as he stands and he doesn’t know why.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Graham. I’m Dr Lecter.” The gravel of his voice sends a pang of arousal through Will’s abdomen, and Will’s suddenly glad that he’s already flushed. The doctor doesn’t offer his hand, which is a relief. He’d probably make some embarrassing noises if he touched the other man’s skin. “As required by practitioner guidelines, I’m on suppressants, so you’re in perfectly safe hands. This way, please.”

No wonder the lack of scent. He turns and Will follows. He notes Lecter’s wide shoulders and easy composure, lion-like — almost like a predator striding. He’d be surprised if this man wasn’t an alpha.

Will wants to reach out and see if he can feel Lecter’s body heat through that expensive suit.

He’s ushered into another white space and told to have a seat on the examination chair. Dr Lecter is quiet as he checks his ears and throat with a light, and only breaks the silence as he snaps gloves on.

“I’m going to be examining your scent glands now, Mr Graham. Lean back on the headrest.” His voice is surprisingly soothing. Will follows. “Any discomfort besides the regular swelling?”

No, nothing. “Good.” He gets Will to turn his head from side to side, watching him intently. Then he crowds in and presses warm fingers into Will’s jaw, down the column of his throat, along his collarbones. This close, he can feel Lecter’s body heat radiating into his skin, and the scent of his expensive aftershave and the faint wool of his suit washes like warm water over his mangled senses. Will involuntarily sucks in a breath. Lecter’s presence envelops him, holds him in place — makes him feel _safe_ , the tense irritation drained from his limbs. He feels himself melting into the doctor’s touch, and the urge to pull him down and taste his mouth startles the part of his brain that's still relatively lucid.

Lecter’s voice startles him back to reality. “Good. You’re doing very well, Will.”

Will blinks. His name in Lecter’s mouth sends a thrill through his body, and a part of him wants to sit even stiller, to lean into it, to be _good._

 _Shit_.

The doctor gives one final press to his collarbone and lifts his hands from Will’s throat. “Would you prefer I take off my gloves for this, Will? At this point in pre-heat, you may experience heightened sensitivity in your scent glands, and many of my patients have reported some discomfort.”

To his own mild horror, Will nods, driven by a sudden instinctive need for skin to skin contact. He grimaces at his lack of inhibition, but he’s quickly distracted by a glint in the doctor’s eyes as he snaps off the gloves. Like a smirk, but without his mouth. Somehow, the intimacy of it makes Will flush impossibly redder.

Lecter crosses to stand behind him. He presses carefully at the scent glands on the sides of Will’s neck, bare fingers sending a humming shock of pleasure straight to his cock. Will clenches his jaw, a small sound escaping him. He’s tense again, strung like a livewire, and he feels fresh slick slip out of him. He tries not to squirm in his seat.

“Anything wrong, Will?”

Lecter’s nose is inches away from Will’s curls. He must be able to smell his arousal.

“No,” he manages to choke out.

“The nurse told me that your heat started this morning. It’s farther along than it should be.” _No shit._ Will hums his assent, hoping desperately that his voice doesn’t crack. “That’s of no issue. As I mentioned earlier, I’m currently on suppressants. You’re safe with me.” His voice is a low, dangerous rumble at the shell of his ear. Lecter drags his thumbs along the edge of his glands and Will hears himself gasp.

“S-sorry.”

He hears Lecter smile behind him. “Some arousal at the stimulation of your erogenous zones is perfectly normal, Will. No need to apologize.” His fingers move down and knead slowly, eliciting a small noise from Will’s throat. They fan open to bracket his Adam's apple, pressing down, down. Pinning him.

Will feels trapped, in the best way. Held. He wants to stay there.

“Swallow, please.” The close, rough drag of the doctor’s voice makes him shiver and he swallows more out of reflex than anything else, throat bobbing against the cage of his fingers. More slick trickles out as he feels himself slide further into heat.

“Good. You’re being very good, Will.” He draws his hands back up to Will’s jaw, and Will thinks he’s being a little too thorough. The image of Dr Lecter, eyes lidded and sensual mouth parted as he caresses the bared column of Will’s neck, flashes unbidden in his mind. He swallows again, involuntarily.

“There’s no need for that. Please be still.” Will thinks he can hear a faint smirk on his lips. Then, matter-of-factly: “You were being so good.” Lecter gives a final press of his fingers and removes them from Will’s throat. Cold air rushes onto his fevered skin, and Will has to stop himself from keening after the safe heat of his hands.

He’s clinical again as he crosses back into Will’s line of vision. _Person suit_ , Will thinks idly _._ “We’re moving on to the pelvic exam. Please part your legs.”

Shit.

The paper cover over his thighs crackles as he obeys. He tries not to think about how slick he already is, how thick the scent of his arousal must be, and is slightly disappointed as Lecter snaps new gloves on, slicks up his fingers with lube, and lowers himself between Will’s knees. “For hygiene purposes,” he says at Will’s furrowed brow. Then he places his touch to Will’s slick opening, and he immediately has other things to worry about — a sharp exhale is forced out of him as a shiver passes through his body. He’s never been this sensitive in his _life_.

Lecter doesn’t seem to react. “Here. This is what they feel like, just so you’re not alarmed at the intrusion.” Will gasps as he feels Lecter’s gloved fingers trace up his labia, then rest against his entrance. The touch makes him jump, and he thinks about the glistening mess he probably is down there.

“Bit excessive there, doctor.” His voice is so shaky that it makes his face heat, but the pressure is so _good_ and he just wants them _in him already_ — he twitches his hips against the pressure again, almost reflexively, then clenches his jaw with a whimper as he forces his body to be still.

The doctor watches his face, eyes shining with a dark amusement that wasn’t there a moment ago. “I apologize, Will. I do want you to be comfortable.” Then he shifts closer to Will’s open thighs, pressing his fingers against his folds, and Will lets out a yelp. He swallows with the realization that he’s drawing out the moment just to see how he’d react. And as if Lecter was waiting for him to finally get it, he breaches his opening with two fingers and Will _moans_ , his hips jumping at the sensation. It feels so good to have something inside him.

Fresh slick coats the doctor’s fingers and his face flames.

“F-fuck. Doctor—”

“You don’t need to be ashamed, Will. As I said, arousal is normal. Don’t fight it.”

He prods at Will’s abdomen with his other hand as he moves his fingers, the pressure making Will squirm, and his voice betrays nothing as he pets at Will’s insides. “You’re producing a lot of slick. I needn’t have used the lubricant.” Then he locks eyes with Will before he can react and pushes his fingers in the whole way, slow, and curls them against his walls. Will cries out, head snapping back against the chair.

This time, Lecter smirks. “There you go.” He adjusts his hand and crooks his fingers again, mouth curling as Will shudders and gasps. “Good boy.”

“ _F-fuck_.” He feels weak in the best way possible.

“Stay still, Will. Just let me.”

He massages his thumb against Will’s clit as he adds another finger, the stretch a slow drag of pleasure, and Will can’t help but grip the armrests of his seat, ragged noises spilling from his throat. He feels exposed, his skin sparking white-hot in the open air, but _God_ does he want Lecter to keep fucking him like that.

Then his quiet, roughened voice: “Do you want my cock?”

Will whimpers at the question, arousal aching in his belly. He feels like a puddle against the thin padding of the medical chair.

“You have to give me verbal consent if you want me to fuck you, Will.”

He gathers his voice. It already sounds wrecked. “I-I thought you were on suppressants — ”

“Suppressants just restrict my alpha instincts so I won’t take you the moment I smell your heat.” He presses his fingers in again, free hand petting along the inside of Will’s thigh, and shifts his body forward so his hand is trapped between their bodies and he can grind his palm against Will’s clit. “Your scent was thick in the hallway outside that waiting room, Will. It doesn’t mean I won’t _want_ to. And it doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you like I intend to own you.”

Will shudders at that, hips bucking into Hannibal’s hand. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. Then Lecter presses in and does something with his fingers that makes the omega cry out and buck his hips down against them. A dam breaks in Will’s resolve.

“Ah - f-fuck — please just fuck me, Dr Lecter, please—”

Lecter smirks. “Good, Will. Very good.”

He withdraws his fingers and his smirk grows hungrier as Will keens at the loss, his cunt clenching down on emptiness. Lecter’s movements seem unhurried but it’s the fastest Will’s seen anyone get their cock out, and he braces a forearm beside Will’s head as he lines himself up. His eyes are fixed on Will’s in this intense half-lidded gaze and he feels pinned again, spread out like some rare butterfly specimen, the doctor gazing down and drinking in every pulse of arousal and fear that plays across Will’s face. He feels the blunt head of Lecter’s cock press against his entrance, and Will’s breath hitches as he fucks in shallowly, watching the omega’s face for his reaction. His mouth falls open on a moan as Lecter pushes all the way in in one slow, smooth thrust, eyes still fixed on Will’s as his lips part in answer. Their breaths mingle as the doctor starts moving, deep thrusts that make Will arch his back off the chair to meet them. Dr Lecter shoves his hips down in response and Will _whimpers_.

“You like that, pup?” Lecter breathes. He drags a thumb along his lip and breaches his mouth with it, pressing down on the omega’s soft tongue as his thrusts quicken. Will blearily cuts his gaze at him, his mind in a lust-addled haze. He can taste his own slick on the latex. His heat descends on him with every shove of the doctor’s hips — his vision is blurring and a fever creeps up his body, licking at his skin like flames. Everywhere the doctor touches feels so _good_ and he wants Lecter’s gloves off, _now_. He closes his mouth around his thumb and sucks, then bites at it to make him withdraw. Lecter doesn’t even wince — his smugness grows, even — and Will works his jaw open to speak. His tongue feels thick in his mouth and barely his.

“T-take your gloves off.”

Lecter hums and gives him another one of his barely-there smirks. “Was I right about the discomfort?”

Will shudders at the mocking tone. He wants more. “Yes.”

He peels off the gloves. Will actually shudders and gasps as his fingers brush his neck, the bare skin a sweet shock on his own. He leans into it, dragging his cheek along his rough palm, and Lecter puts his thumb back into the omega’s mouth, eyes shining as Will tastes his skin.

He leans in, his warmth a physical press on Will’s sensitive body, and sucks a bruise into his collarbone. A hand smooths up his chest under his shirt and Will shudders, his sides twitching at the proximity as the doctor mouths up his neck and captures his lips, and Will can finally taste him. _Alpha_. He whines as Lecter licks into his mouth, claiming it, his taste flooding Will’s tongue. He pulls away with a nip to his bottom lip and admires the mess he’s made.

“Fuck. M-move, _please_ ,” Will grinds out, voice wavering.

Lecter huffs, amused. “Look at you, Will.” He shoves in, hard, and Will’s mouth falls open as he starts thrusting in earnest. “Debauched. I wonder what the nurses are thinking.” His breath catches slightly as he shifts the angle of his hips. “I’ve never conducted such a thorough examination before.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Will breathes as pleasure shoots up his spine at the change. He’s clutching at the doctor’s broad shoulders now, breaths labored, losing more control over his voice with every thrust. “Fuck, _fuck — Dr Lecter — ah —"_

 _“_ That’s it, pup. So good for me.” He kisses Will again, hard, teeth scraping his tongue, and Will moans into his mouth. He imagines them sinking into his neck and mewls, tugging at the other man’s nape to get them there.

Lecter growls in answer, thrusts becoming erratic as he tweaks Will’s nipple, earning a yell from the omega. “ _Fuck_. Mark me, mark me please—“

He whines as Lecter leans away to ruck up Will’s shirt, canines glinting past his slick lips. “Oh, that begging.” He bends down to lave and suck at a heat-swollen nipple, fangs scraping against the skin there. “Perfect little omega.” His voice is thick with lust and Will whimpers, shoving his hips up to meet his thrusts. Lecter’s mouth hovers over his neck, a hair’s breadth away from sinking his teeth in, and for a moment Will can’t tell them apart — he can feel Lecter’s possessiveness, his ferocious elation at the thought of tying them together. He whines and arches up into his fangs, mirroring him desperately, and Lecter bears down on Will’s throat with his palm as he comes, his teeth narrowly avoiding skin. The grip on his neck and the stretch of his knot push Will over the edge and he cries out, voice wrecked as his eyes roll back in his skull. They lay shuddering in each other’s arms as they ride it out, Lecter panting into his neck, Will speechless and stuffed full.

In the brief moment of lucidity before Will’s heat resumes, Lecter untangles himself to hover above his lips. “I would’ve bonded you to me if not for those suppressants.”

Will swallows, voice rough from the doctor’s palm. He wonders if there’ll be bruising. He wants his hands back around his neck. “And obviously you stopped that from happening.”

“If my teeth so much as brushed your neck I wouldn’t have been able to stop.” He traces a finger down Will’s cheek. “You really would be a perfect mate.”

Will’s breath hitches but he holds Lecter’s gaze. “That’s an unfair thing to say while I’m in heat,” he mumbles.

Lecter smiles. “It’s not unfair if I mean it.” At this point he’s able to slip his knot back out, and Will wonders how much longer he’d last if he wasn’t on medication. He untangles himself to stand and tucks himself back into his slacks. “I’ll have to transfer you to a heat center now. It’s too unsafe for you to be sent home.”

Will eyes him. “I thought I was just here for a checkup.”

“And yet, here we are.” He walks over to retrieve his phone and begins typing in instructions. “It’s only for a few days, Will. And depending on what your blood test results tell us, we’ll be able to keep a closer eye on you. You seem a little feverish.”

A pause. “Will you be there?”

That glint in his eyes again, like a promise. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> finally something that isn't a twitter crosspost. hope i didn't over-italicize lol. tell me if y'all enjoyed :)
> 
> i'm @tastygrahams on the bird app!


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